


Sacrifice (Dean X Angel!Reader)

by Dedicated_But_Delirious



Series: Jericho's SPN One-Shots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel!Reader, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Personal Opinion/Speculated Wing Lore, Profanity, Swearing, a bit of violence, nothing too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 15:42:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16267268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dedicated_But_Delirious/pseuds/Dedicated_But_Delirious
Summary: You and Dean have finally stopped dancing around your obvious feelings for each other, but the situation is less than ideal. He thinks you screwed up a hunt; you think you saved his life. It all works out in the end, but not without a few sacrificed feathers.





	Sacrifice (Dean X Angel!Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> Yay, my first post on AO3! Most of my work is hosted on Tumblr, but I had a couple requests to move my stories here. So yeah, this is actually the first one-shot I posted on Tumblr as well.

 

“Hey Y/N, there’s a case about a town or two out. Feel like coming along?” Sam asked, ducking his head into the guest room you’d claimed as your own.

 

You knew he was only asking because the Winchesters’ resident angel, Castiel, wasn’t available at the moment. You were a back-up of sorts. An angel they knew just well enough to trust on a hunt, but not enough that you’d earned yourself a spot on their team permanently.

 

And yeah, that stung a bit. You prided yourself on being significantly more reliable than Cas, despite having more duties in Heaven and a higher angelic rank. You were also infinitely more in tune with human emotions. But try as you might, the brother duo never seemed to take a real liking to you. You’d patched them up (both with and without the assistance of your grace) more times than you could count. And for some confounded reason, they still prayed to Cas first.

 

Despite all of this, you didn’t hesitate to agree to Sam’s offer. Honestly, the more time you spent with them, the happier you were. More specifically, the longer you got to be in Dean’s company, the happier you became.

 

That led to sitting in the backseat of the Impala for an hour straight. Your wings, although held on a different dimensional plane, did not go well with tight spaces like cars. But if you just flew to your destination, that was an hour spent without Dean jamming to his classic rock. So you endured.

 

On the way, Sam informed you (by shouting over Dean’s surprisingly pleasing singing) about the hunt; just a demon, maybe two, had been raising a little hell. So you three were off to raise a little hell of your own. In all fairness, you could’ve had the demons roasted in two seconds flat. Angel perks, and all that.

 

But Dean - Dean needed to get out of the bunker and kill something, and you knew better than to interfere. You were a safe-guard, only there to step in if things got out of hand.

 

And when there turned out to be twelve demons instead of two, that’s exactly what you did.

 

Shouting at the brothers to turn away or close their eyes, you had six of the demons snagged and smote with a brilliant flash of white-blue light, their eyes smoking with the intensity of it.

 

The fight was fierce; these demons weren’t playing around, and they weren’t run-of-the-mill grunts either. Armed with angel blades of unknown origin, they were a bit of trouble for even you. Sam and Dean had nearly killed one each, while you grappled with the remaining four. Finally, one caught you on the arm with his angel blade and your cry caused Dean to become distracted, a fact that did not go unnoticed by his opponent.

 

Shit.

 

You didn’t have any options.

 

One demon slipped away from you and grabbed him from behind, locking his arms behind his back. His original quarry geared up to put a blade through his throat.

 

Dean froze, struggled, and finally slumped in defeat, all within a few fractions of a second. He accepted it.

 

But you couldn’t. So without thinking you swung your wings wide and covered him.

 

Blood dripped to the floor, feathers falling just after.

 

It hurt. It hurt more than anything you’d ever felt, but Dean was safe, and that’s what really mattered.

 

Your grace swept through the room, expelling the rest of the demons in a matter of seconds, more as a reflex than anything else.

 

It was quiet.

 

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Dean growled after the long pause, stalking over towards your shaking form. It was hard to focus on anything but the flood of pain tearing at your nerves and making your vision fuzzy.

 

“What the hell was that? I had it covered!” He shouted, pushing himself into your personal space, and you vaguely remembered him telling you off several times for doing the same thing. Humans were hypocrites.

 

“You would’ve been killed.” You answered softly and a bit slurred. You’d never injured a wing before. Was it normal for the pain to spread all the way to your vessel?

 

Dean scoffed, backing away from you.

 

“Y’know, Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t have come with us. You turned out to be a distraction and more trouble than you’re worth. We don’t need you.”

 

That cut deeper than any blade. It wasn’t just the words, it was the tone he used: totally calm and a bit exasperated. It would’ve hurt less had he shouted it in anger in the heat of the moment.

 

Sam didn’t speak up, and you interpreted that as his silent agreement with his brother.

 

Your knees gave out and you hit the stained concrete floor, scuffing your knees and palms.

 

You had saved his life and this was the thanks you get? To be fair, you did eliminate his hunt. That didn’t justify his behaviour, but your pain-riddled mind couldn’t come up with much else.

 

Suddenly, you felt overwhelmed. You couldn’t be here, not now. You needed to be in the bunker, or just away from the brothers you valued so highly. You needed to get the knife out of your wing and fix whatever you could, if anything.

 

Lucky you, with only one of four wings down, you could still flutter your way to the bunker, if a little haphazardly. So you did.

 

Dean was still pacing. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling but he knew it had to do with you. You and the flickering black shadow that had been cast over him when that demon went to kill him. He wasn’t sure what exactly happened.

 

The brothers had called Cas, but he was taking his sweet time. The boys had no way of knowing, but he was with you, his big sister who had been reduced to a shaking, sobbing mess, on the verge of passing out from the pure agony.

 

So when Cas did show up, the boys were shocked at the utter rage rolling off him in waves.

 

“What have you done to her?”

 

“To Y/N? Nothing, man, she took off after the fight.” Sam answered cautiously. Cas wasn’t usually so emotional, but when he was it was a serious matter. A furious angel was an unpredictable one.

 

“What fight?” Dean snarled, clearly still pissed. “She took them all out before we could gank hardly any!”

 

That’s when Cas spotted the silvery feathers on the ground, splattered with still-wet blood. And it clicked.

Cas scooped them up in one smooth motion, thrusting them in Dean’s face.

 

“She sacrificed one of the most important parts of herself and you’re upset with her? Her wings are her life, Dean, and this wound could prevent her from flying properly for the rest of her existence! Most angels would die before giving up their wings.” Cas growled.

 

Dean blinked, his anger melting away. You had done that for him? Sure, he thought you were beautiful and funny, and your ability to joke with him made you different from most angels. But this was - this was so different. This wasn’t just you icing a nasty bruise or grace-ing away a few cuts. This was a part of you. Physical feathers and blood that, according to Cas, might never heal.

 

“I…” Dean trailed off, unsure how to fix his mistake. “I had no idea.”

 

“I’ve already tried to help her, but she won’t let me see her wings. But you - if she was willing to destroy them for you, she should be willing to let you help.” Cas speculated gruffly.

 

“She won’t. Not after what I said to her.” Dean plucked the feathers from Cas’s hand twirled them in his grasp. They were soft, but they places where the blood covering them had begun to dry were stiff and bristled against his palm. Your feathers were large and mostly silver; when the light hit them just right they reflected a thousand different colours. He couldn’t help but wonder what a whole wing’s worth of the colour-changing feathers would look like.

 

“It’s our only chance. If the wound isn’t treated it will worsen. Eventually…it could kill her. But we must hurry, she won’t be able to stand the pain for much longer and we need her conscious to bring her wings onto this plane of being.” Cas said impatiently, still acting unsettlingly emotional.

 

“Wait, wait, I thought humans couldn’t see an angel’s wings without their eyes getting barbecued?” Sam chimed in.

 

Cas shifted, appearing nervous.

 

“While that’s usually true, Y/N can, if she so chooses, make her wings take a more…physical form. But it will intensify her pain.” He revealed.

 

“Well, shit.” Dean grumbled. “Guess we gotta try though, right?”

 

With a terse nod, Cas flew both himself and Dean to the bunker. Sam would bring the Impala.

The minute the two arrived, screams ripped through the air, causing Dean to break into a run, looking for you and calling out as he went.

 

“Y/N!”

 

…

 

“Y/N, dammit, where are you?”

 

Was that - was that Dean? Calling for you? He couldn’t possibly be back yet unless - Cas! Your younger brother Castiel had pulled through and gotten Dean to come back.

 

Steeling yourself, you managed a weak “Library!” before the pain took your words away.

 

Dean’s footfalls sounded closer and closer until they came to a stop beside you.

 

“Y/N…” He quickly dropped to his knees beside you, but didn’t dare touch you.

 

You opened your mouth to say something, but another wave of pain rippled through you, your body convulsing and trembling, weak whimpers leaving you.

 

“Shit, you’re really hurting…” Dean murmured haltingly, seemingly unsure of what to do.

 

“Cas…Cas says I have to fix you, Y/N, but it’s gonna hurt worse for a while. You gotta let me see your wings, okay?” His voice was velvety soft and gentle. For a moment you almost forgot about the hurtful words he’d spat at you minutes before. Almost.

 

“No.” You breathed, trying and failing to pull your legs underneath you to stand. “No, I won’t.”

 

“Y/N, come on - “

“No, Dean! I’m not letting - “ Your words cut off with a slightly muffled scream as you accidently shifted your wing in an attempt to find balance.

 

“Look, what I said was shitty and uncalled for. I’m sorry, but you need to get over it and let me help you!

Then you can be mad at me, alright?” Dean took a hold of your shoulders, pulling you upright, his fingertips digging in and betraying his true worry.

 

You stopped and thought for a moment. The intense pain had your brain swimming and it was hard to put words together, but one thing you knew for certain. Manifesting your wings would hurt like a bitch but it was the only way to save them.

 

Making your decision, you slowly nodded your head.

 

“Okay,” Dean sighed, “okay, so, uh, what now?”

 

Wordlessly, you placed your shaking hand over his eyes; and then braced yourself as best you could. It took only a thought and a gentle tug to pull your wings into this dimension, and the blinding flash of light was accompanied by double the pain you felt before.

 

You couldn’t scream. You couldn’t move. The sounds caught in your throat as the agony ripped through you. Your hand slipped away from Dean’s eyes as you collapsed, your four silvery wings going limp. Your own eyes closed and the last thing you heard was Dean’s amazed gasp.

 

\---

 

You woke up alone.

 

Which was unsettling to say the least, but also a bit relieving.

 

Your wings were still physically present. You’d chosen Dean, and only Dean, so having anyone else in the room would be highly upsetting. Wings were an intensely private thing for angels, and not even other angels were privileged with seeing them.

 

But the fact that Dean wasn’t there hurt. Did he think your wings were unsightly? Maybe he thought they were downright ugly? Maybe he didn’t think they were worth fixing…

 

No. The pain was gone, and you could move all four wings without any discomfort. You shifted your injured wing to wrap in front of you so you could inspect it. The angel blade had clearly been removed, and the wound left behind had been cauterized. It still left a sizeable gap in your feathers, but they would grow back, along with most of the missing tissue. Most of the blood that had covered your wing and clotted its’ shiny feathers together had been gently washed away. All in all, it was a better fix than you could’ve hoped for.

 

But where was Dean?

 

You didn’t know if Sam was back yet or if Cas had stuck around. You also didn’t know if ‘vanishing’ your wings would damage the delicate skin that was trying its best to heal. You shouted for Dean a few times, but ultimately did not receive an answer.

So you did the next best thing.

 

Tucking your wings as close to your back as you possible could, you eased your door open, peeking both ways before slipping out into the hallway. You were mostly silent, but a small squeak escaped you when you passed under a vent and the draft rustled your sensitive feathers.

 

In a flash, Dean was scrambling out of the doorway in front of you: the bunker’s library.

 

“You’re awake! You okay?” He questioned quickly, his eyes scanning over your form frantically.

 

 _Oh, so I yell from my room and you can’t hear me, but you heard that? Makes perfect sense…_ You thought sarcastically. 

 

“Yes, Dean, I’m just fine. Thanks for…you know…” You pulled your patched-up wing out from behind you, swishing it gently through the air before folding it back into place.

 

Dean followed the movement with his eyes distractedly and had to shake himself out of a daze to reply.

 

“Oh, yeah, it wasn’t, uh, it wasn’t a problem. You’re really feeling okay, though? Not hurting or anything?” He was being over-bearing but it made you feel nice. Cared for.

 

You noticed his eyes would not leave the few feathers that peaked over your shoulders. You weren’t quite sure what to think of that.

 

“Sam or Castiel here?” You questioned casually. If they were, you were hiding out in your room until your wing was healed. You were lucky enough that you hadn’t run across anyone else yet.

 

“No, they left. Sam got back but Cas said you would want privacy because of your, uh, your… _wings_.” He informed your thickly, finally tearing his gaze away from said appendages and meeting your eyes. “Cas said you couldn’t put ‘em away or anything for at least an hour or two.”

 

 

Well, it could be worse. Surely an hour or two wouldn’t kill you. You thoughtlessly shifted your weight, your wings adjusting themselves to the new position and Dean’s eyes were back on them.

 

“Do they bother you?” You questioned quietly, dreading his answer.

 

“What?”

 

“Do my wings bother you?”

 

“Oh - oh god, no, I’m sorry. Staring is probably rude, right? I’ll just - “ Dean’s gaze immediately found the floor and he stumbled back towards the library.

 

Wait.

 

Was he - _was he blushing?_

 

“Dean.”

 

He stopped, his body half turned away from you. He opened his mouth and then closed it repeatedly, as if he didn’t know what to say.

 

“I don’t mind the attention.” You began, taking a risk. “It’s flattering, really. I was afraid…well, when I woke up and you weren’t there, I was afraid you didn’t think my wings were worth fixing. I figured you didn’t like them.” You had unconsciously pulled your lower set of wings in front of you, nervously fiddling with the reflective feathers. Your larger set stayed tightly held to your back.

 

It took several moments for Dean to even acknowledge that you’d spoken. But when he did it made your grace buzz with warmth.

 

“God, Y/N, I feel like a jerk now. I thought you’d prefer the privacy. Cas kinda suggested that angels didn’t like anyone seeing their wings. Your wings are…I don’t have the words to describe them. I know that sounds really cliché but your wings are incredible. And the fact that you were willing to protect me at the cost of a part of you. I mean, seriously!” He emphasized at your incredulous look. “And then I…I got so mad. I didn’t - you gotta believe me, I didn’t realize that you’d…” He trailed off, looking conflicted.

 

He wasn’t mad anymore? It wasn’t exactly an apology, but it was the closest Dean Winchester got.

 

“Dean…”

 

“And then, Cas showed me the feathers that you’d lost. I just - I got so worried, and I was furious that you’d go so far for someone like me; someone you had treated you so badly so many times. When I found you on the floor, I regretted everything. I regretted not having you around more. I regretted being such an ass to the one person who had done nothing but help me. I just…dammit - “

 

Before you could blink, he had rushed at you and pressed his lips against yours.

 

At that moment, you didn’t care that he was so self-critical. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about much more than the feeling of his lips, the feeling you’d dreamt about and never thought you’d get a chance to experience.

 

Eventually though, he had to break away for air.

 

“I regretted not doing that sooner.” He was breathless and his voice had dropped an octave. It sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his fingers idly tweaking the downy feathers in the spot where your wings met the soft skin of your back.

 

“I’m just happy you did it at all.” You whispered back, sounding just as breathless.

 

“Never put yourself in danger like that ever again.”

 

“Well, if I get this kind of treatment…”

 

“I love you, you know that?”

 

“I love you too, Dean.”


End file.
